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Eli: At some point, you run out of ways to rephrase the same faux-shock that Pixar keeps winning these awards, y’know? WALL-E marks yet another victory for this juggernaut.
Along with 2004, this is another rare year in which all three nominees came from gigantic mega-studios: WALL-E from Pixar, Bolt from Walt Disney Animation, and Kung Fu Panda from DreamWorks. Unlike 2004, you could make the case that 2008 saw somewhat deserving movies miss out on a nomination, as Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa and Horton Hears a Who! were both pretty big deals that are both remembered at least kind of fondly.
Honestly, though, WALL-E was such a striking success that even three nominees might have been two too many. Its IMDb rating of 8.4 places it highest among all 28 Pixar feature films that exist at the time of this writing, with its 1.2 million votes also being the highest total of any Pixar movie. Check pretty much any other review aggregator and you’ll find the same universal acclaim: 95%/90% critic/audience rating on Rotten Tomatoes, 95 on Metacritic, 4.2 stars on Letterboxd. Pretty much everyone considers this movie an all-timer.
Of course, this was also mostly true for last year’s Ratatouille, and we were all fairly negative on that film. Will we rain on another parade and lose even more credibility? Or is WALL-E really just that good?
The Nominees
WALL-E (won Best Animated Feature)
Bolt (nominated)
Kung Fu Panda (nominated)
The “Best” Animated Feature: WALL-E
Preston: The gap between Pixar’s 2007 release of Ratatouille and their 2008 release of WALL-E is far too short for the former to have creatively inspired the latter. There was probably some crossover between the crews working on the two films, but you couldn’t really construe WALL-E as a direct response to its immediate predecessor; the timeline just doesn’t work for that.
Which is weird, isn’t it? Because this film so precisely amends—and practically perfects—the biggest missed opportunities that led to Ratatouille falling short of its potential. That film missed the mark in a clear, understandable way: it didn’t make full use of the sharp contrast between its rat and human characters, leading to a rat society which is bizarrely human and a human society which, as a result, comes off as cruelly discriminatory right through to the “happy” ending. It’s reasonable that Pixar struggled with this a bit, confronting a group of its typical non-human protagonists with humanity for most of the story—not an easy thing to write when you’re trying to balance themes of prejudice and acceptance against an expectation that you can’t realistically end with rats and humans living side by side.
Then WALL-E came along, introduced another non-human cast, threw them in alongside humanity, and stuck the landing perfectly. Discrimination isn’t really a theme in this film, which is probably for the best, because it makes room for an even more interesting story about…well, “humanity” in the figurative sense, explored through the characters of the non-human WALL-E and EVE. The message is ultimately remarkably similar to Ratatouille’s—that stubborn, deeply human hope springs eternal for everyone, even futuristic probes and trash-compacting robots—but it’s executed far more exactly, because WALL-E is eager and willing to use (and break down) the inherent barriers between its extremely different characters.
Of course, you don’t need me to tell you that the first thirty minutes of this film, and everything about the WALL-E/EVE plotline and romance that continues through to the end, are a masterpiece. But I think people often miss how well-fitted the human sections of this story are to its themes; I’ve seen it lumped in with Up as another late-2000s Pixar film that takes a stylistic turn and a slight overall downturn after an incredible opening, and I don’t think the comparison is entirely warranted.1 Captain McCrea’s B plot is a vastly underrated complement to the story—vital both to the A plot and to carrying out the idea that obstinate optimism is what makes life worth living, that humanity always has hope and that hope is what defines humanity. (Even for robots!)
There’s so much to talk about with how beautiful, and masterfully written, the core theme of WALL-E is that I’ve largely set aside its little elements for the sake of this review. Still, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention how many tiny things make this world so real, so delightfully deep, mirroring that message of empathy in every way. Every last object in WALL-E’s home (and the ways both he and EVE experience them), a majestic score highlighted by the blaring horns of “The Spaceship”, the typing robot that WALL-E accidentally teaches to wave, John and Mary’s background romance, the entire character that is M-O,2 the “define dancing” scene, the wonderful (and honestly relatable) cast of “defective” robots that play a key role in the third act…hell, even the spinoff short, BURN-E, is equal parts hilarious and heartfelt in its own way.
There are other animated films I consider perfect, including (as of now) four others that fall within the scope of this project—Howl’s Moving Castle (which Leah already gave an excellent review) and three that are yet to come. But when it comes to stories that dwell on these themes of empathy and hope…animated or otherwise, I don’t think there’s anything better. WALL-E is, in my opinion, the greatest love story ever told, and there have been few more deserving winners of this prestigious award.
The Other Animated Features
Bolt — Eli
Nominated
You just had to be there.
I’m not sure you can understand how much of a sheer cultural force Miley Cyrus was unless you were the correct age to be watching way too much Disney Channel in the late aughts. That describes me (b. 1997) so let me tell ya: she was everywhere.
Pretend you’re me: a 10-year-old in fall 2008, when Bolt released. You wake up and turn the radio on as you prepare for another day of sixth grade.3 It’s Miley Cyrus singing “7 Things”, which peaked at #9 on the Billboard Hot 100. You arrive at school and overhear some conversations in the hall, at least a few of which are about Disney Channel because it’s 2008 and everyone is still glued to their TVs. Miley’s name comes up more than once. After a hard day of pre-algebra and gym class dodgeball, you return home and make a beeline for the couch to wind down with some TV. You turn it on and it’s already tuned to Disney Channel, playing a Hannah Montana rerun.
Interstitially, after a Mickey “Remicks” of Hannah Montana’s “He Could Be the One”, you’re bombarded with marketing for Bolt that leans all the way into its two stars: John Travolta and—well, would ya look at that—Miley Cyrus.
This was a pretty weird film to take in knowing what we knew about Miley’s issues with Disney at the time, and it’s a really weird one with a decade and a half of hindsight. Its entire premise is that TV studios overwork and manipulate their young stars to the point that they don’t have a life offscreen and/or requests for basic human decency are routinely ignored. This, of course, is exactly what Disney themselves were doing with Miley, who would go on to divorce the Mouse and reclaim her life through a years-long rebellion that brought her a lot of undeserved controversy and scorn from the public.4
Spoilers ahead, so consider yourself warned, but the climax of the movie sees the two main characters—child star Penny, played by Miley, and her dog Bolt, played by Travolta—nearly die in a studio fire due to the negligence of their higher-ups. The only closure we see them get for this blatant malpractice is that Penny and her mom fire their obnoxious agent and quit not only the show, but all of Hollywood, leaving Los Angeles entirely.
So, obviously, this is an own goal from Disney. There seemed to be some debate as to whether Disney understood the irony at the time. Anecdotally, some opined that this was Disney’s way of acknowledging that they were mistreating their talent and perhaps trying to change. But the longer it’s been since 2008, the clearer it’s become that 1) they knew exactly what they were doing, and 2) they weren’t apologizing for it.
Most relevantly, Disney has continued to run pretty much the same girl child star model to the present day, rummaging through the nursery for Selena Gomez, Demi Lovato, Debby Ryan, Bridgit Mendler, Zendaya, Dove Cameron, Sabrina Carpenter, Olivia Rodrigo, and a whole host of others. If they meant Bolt as a vow to do better, they haven’t shown it.
More subtly, though, really think about that ending. Penny still wasn’t being taken seriously immediately after almost dying in the studio’s care. Things weren’t going to get better for her and Bolt if they stayed. Most likely, after some recovery period, the studio was going to return to treating the two of them like personal property, as their agent already was just minutes later. They got nothing. So they left the business.
You could just view this as shoddy writing—there’s a lot of that in this movie and this scene is certainly no exception—but what I see here is Disney’s take on a classic power threat. This is them saying that they treat their child stars like crap and don’t intend to stop doing that because it makes them too much money. If a child star doesn’t like it, fair enough, but policy is policy and Disney isn’t budging. “If you don’t like it, then leave.”
In short, Bolt is a heinous product, to say nothing of the fact that it’s also a pretty bad movie. It deserves no juxtaposition to the other two Best Animated Feature nominees of 2008, and especially not to WALL-E, which is widely agreed to be one of the best animated movies of all time.
The Jenny Lewis song is nice, though.
Verdict: Not a better animated feature
Kung Fu Panda — Preston
Nominated
What’s the turning point in Pixar’s filmography?
Right. There isn’t one. Sure, there are broad stylistic shifts that can be spotted taking shape from one movie to the next, but there’s no single point at which the studio drastically reimagined its entire approach to the process of creating a story from the ground up. It’s simply not something that studios usually do (and, to be fair, Pixar has rarely had much reason to question their process, endlessly successful as they seem to be both popularly and critically).
That fact makes it fascinating that Pixar’s most prominent rival in Western animation, DreamWorks, has had two such “turning point” films. The first, though you might not know it if you weren’t versed in their early history, was Shrek, which bucked the trend of taking heavy inspirations from Disney with productions like Antz, The Prince of Egypt, and The Road to El Dorado. Many of DreamWorks’ films in the 2000s attempted to recapture Shrek’s magic, with the distinctive use of licensed music and unimaginative ribaldry carrying through to more films in the franchise, as well as to others like 2005’s Madagascar and 2007’s Bee Movie. The latter was such a mess of incoherent pacing, tone, and plot that it may well have been the film that finally made DreamWorks realize they needed to take a step back and find a new identity, but as for what that identity would be…
Well, that’s where the studio’s second turning point comes in. There are echoes of the old DreamWorks formula in Kung Fu Panda, but in many ways it’s a departure from what the studio had been putting out. There are no licensed tracks (aside from a cover of “Kung Fu Fighting” over the end credits); instead, Hans Zimmer and John Powell teamed up for the first time since The Road to El Dorado and penned a masterful, majestic score. There’s no modern-day setting, or attempts to riff on it as in the setting of Shrek; instead, the film is utterly enamored with the fantastical world of an ancient China populated by talking animals. There’s…a little distasteful humor, but honestly, the restraint is admirable; a mid-2000s DreamWorks would’ve taken one look at the film’s protagonist and cracked a joke at his expense every ten seconds.
Of course, Bee Movie and other disappointments like it made it clear that some changes needed to be made. Improving on DreamWorks’ flaws alone would’ve made for a strong film, but Kung Fu Panda also established a firm identity that would carry through the studio’s future filmography. In a way, it harkened back to Shrek, reevaluating what actually made that movie work so well—not crude jokes and Smash Mouth songs, but an honest and thoughtful deconstruction of storytelling tropes and common prejudices. This film is a refinement of that approach, putting forward a strong and well-executed message that body types aren’t inherently good or bad, and that everybody has strengths that can make them exceptional. It’s easy to see how these ideas influenced subsequent DreamWorks films like How to Train Your Dragon and Megamind, carrying all the way through to the peak of the studio’s modern era in Puss in Boots: The Last Wish. Obviously, there are plenty of weak films scattered among these gems, but the high points owe a significant debt to Kung Fu Panda for setting out a clear trajectory and identity for DreamWorks to keep coming back to.
For that reason, I’d certainly say it’s the most important animated film of 2008, and the one with the most positive lasting impact. You could argue that those points should be the measuring stick for Best Animated Feature, but as much as I find the cultural impact of Kung Fu Panda fascinating and underrated, it isn’t an absolutely perfect film. I’m of the opinion that its sequel does just about everything a tiny bit better, and the little miscues knock the first film in this series down just a bit. In many years, that wouldn’t matter, but in this year, there was a perfect film up for the award.
WALL-E is one of my favorite movies of all time. If DreamWorks was mastering its formula for charming, meaningful, earnest films with its release this year, Pixar was showing off how completely they had perfected theirs, with a tour de force that nails absolutely everything it does. It’s an exemplary case of environmental storytelling, a masterpiece of a love story, a movie that is utterly whimsical and imaginative while also hitting some of the most heartwrenching emotional lows Disney has ever crafted.
As I mentioned earlier, through the history of the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature, there have been five5 possible winners I would give a perfect 10/10; WALL-E is the second, and I think it may very well be the best. There’s no shame at all in finishing second to a film like that.
Verdict: Not a better animated feature
Running Tally
2001: 2 better (2 nominated; 3 snubbed)
2002: 1 better (4 nominated; 0 snubbed)
2003: 1 better (2 nominated; 2 snubbed)
2004: 0 better (2 nominated; 1 snubbed)
2005: 2 better (2 nominated; 2 snubbed)
2006: 3 better (2 nominated; 2 snubbed)
2007: 3 better (2 nominated; 1 snubbed)
2008: 0 better (2 nominated; 0 snubbed)
TOTAL: 12 better (18 nominated; 11 snubbed)
Up next, it’s even more Pixar, as their run of dominance continues. But healthier competition awaits them in 2009. Can they come out on top?
Next: 2009 (4 nominated; 2 snubbed)
For what it’s worth, I do really like where Up goes and I think, without that opening, the rest of the film would be better appreciated on its own exceptional merits.
Particularly his eleventh-hour appearance at the end of the second act—I’m not kidding when I say I was obsessed with this scene as a kid. Something about the comedy of saving WALL-E just to decontaminate him, combined with the perfect placement of this hope spot at the story’s absolute lowest point, still gets to me even now.
You skipped first grade like I did. Just go with it.
As opposed to the entirely deserved scorn I still have for “Flowers”, Miley’s big hit from last year.
Subject to change, as there are some contenders I have yet to see that stand a serious chance at cracking the list of perfect 10s.